The Accidental Pope (31 page)

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Authors: Ray Flynn

BOOK: The Accidental Pope
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This opinion was usually driven by highly visible best-selling books and TV documentaries. It was almost as though no matter how much proof or documentation the Church shared, it didn't make any difference. Many Church scholars could only conclude that the enemies of Pius had their minds made up and didn't want to be influenced by the facts.

Soon the middle of December was upon Pope Peter II and a quiescent media found itself stirred to life by the prospect of the pope's family arriving in Rome, an unthinkable event in modern history. The media reviewed in caricature the lives and likenesses of women who had lived with various popes as concubines from medieval times onward. Lucrezia Borgia, daughter of Pope Alexander II, received close and detailed scrutiny. Anticipation heightened perceptibly.

The fact that a pope and his children would be living in Vatican City generated continuous speculation on talk shows; the stain of a married clergy was dinned in op-ed pages by feminist groups and anti-Catholic zealots. As anticipated, activists, naturally feminists and women's groups, began openly to question the Church's position on the nonordination of female aspirants to the priesthood. They saw this period of change as their long-overdue, historic, God-given right.

One major American newspaper, which recklessly reported that marriage annulments for several prominent Catholics had been purchased from the Church, cited Senator Lane's separation from his wife, with three children left in limbo. Headlines and editorials proclaimed that this issue was the new pope's biggest challenge. They did not fail to mention that Lane was from the pope's home state. The Church's firm positions on artificial birth control and abortion reopened old wounds, not surprisingly, and heightened the ongoing verbal jousting. Liberal activists felt that this was their opportunity to move the Church in a more progressive direction. They summoned Hollywood celebrities, now self-proclaimed “lapsed” Catholics, to invoke their celebrity for radical change. All these currents weighed heavily on Pope Peter. Would he end what some termed in the media the “hypocrisy of Rome”? John Paul II's
avviso
warned of increasing apathy and unrest in the American Catholic Church. On the positive side Pope Peter noticed that several of the cardinals and bishops were nonetheless sincerely inquiring about the health and welfare of his family, offering to help in any way.

Finally the morning of the family's arrival in Rome was imminent. Pope Peter began to feel more than a touch of anxiety and excitement at the prospect of seeing his children again. Some of the Vatican establishment felt that it would be improper for the pope to go to Leonardo da Vinci Airport to welcome his family as they came off the plane. Among other things, it was argued that popes had never gone outside Vatican City to greet visitors before. They had always come to him.

Bill Kelly would, of course, hear none of it. He insisted on being at the airport and in the same suit that he had worn when he left home. He was to be plain Mr. William Kelly going to collect his kids.

Thus he sat nervously in a parked limousine, guards unobtrusively stationed about, his chauffeur at the wheel, watching the plane from Boston touch down. In frequent conversations Bill had learned that Tony Maroni, the driver, had four children nearly the same age as his own. There was always something for them to talk about. Tony was in his glory, later boasting about his conversations with his good friend, Pope Bill.

The pope's heart began to pound as the big plane pulled up to the ramp. Special preparations had been made by Alitalia to stop a distance from the normal deplaning area so that the Kellys could descend directly to the limo and get out before the regular passengers disembarked. It was also a plan to keep the ever-voracious media at a distance.

As soon as a member of the landing crew nodded to Bill, he was out of the car and standing at the bottom of the ramp the moment it was pushed in place. As the door opened, his children stood waiting. They descended the stairs, and then came the hugs and kisses for his two youngest, Meghan and Roger.

Then Colleen glided down the steps, looking about her regally. “Hey, Papa, how's tricks?” She stepped onto the tarmac and kissed his cheek and hugged him. “Ryan sends his love. He'll be thinking of us here in Rome as he pulls up his nets on the bank.” Bill grinned and turned his little family around, facing the faraway terminal, conscious that the long-distance lenses on scores of TV cameras from around the world had zoomed in on them from the outer gallery of Leonardo da Vinci Airport.

“Wow, Dad,” Meghan exclaimed, “this is as big as the president's limo. I saw it in the movies. Is this one bulletproof too?”

“Yes, I guess so, sweetheart. I hope to God we never have to find out.” The children were introduced to Tony, and Roger sat up front with him. Meghan and Colleen sat in the backseat with Bill, Colleen riding backwards on the jump seat.

“Dad,” Roger said, “Bishop Sean Patrick—Uncle Sean—said your house is so big I might even be able to have two bedrooms. Is that so?”

“Well, it certainly is big. But why on earth would you want two bedrooms? Twice as many to keep clean.”

“But Uncle Sean said we'd have maids to take care of everything.”

“No way, pal. The offer was made, but I told them my kids were highly trained and would never think of having someone else make their beds and clean their clothes. I even had a washer and dryer put in our apartment so you can keep your clothes clean just like at home.”

After they left the airport Bill turned to his daughter. “Colleen, you have been rather silent. What do you think of Rome at first glance?”

“It's interesting, Dad.”

“You don't seem too excited, baby. You didn't have to come, you know. If you feel uncomfortable in this center of religious fervor you can go back anytime.”

“No. I want to visit you and see what the Vatican is all about. I plan to stay through the Christmas break, and I hope you can get me into the Vatican Library so I can see all the art and read some of those centuries-old books. My major now is art, you know. I really find it interesting.”

“Well, you're in for a special treat here with all the museums. You'll never run out of things to do and see. That's a guarantee. By the way, I got you a special gift. You'll find a new computer in your room.”

“Wow! Thanks, Dad. I was going to bring mine but I thought you might have an extra one kicking around. You said it was special?”

“Well, it's hooked up with the mainframe in the Vatican Library. Everything in the place is on that computer. You'll obviously want to visit the museums firsthand, but you don't even have to leave your room to delve into any books or letters you want to read. Your computer has official clearance to see almost anything.” Ruefully he thought of the highly classified documents, the third prophecy of Our Lady of Fatima, for instance, and the
avviso.
He was holding out sharing the
avviso
and the original parchment of Lucia's memory of the Fatima prophecy with anyone.

“Neat!” Colleen exclaimed. “Oh, Papa!” She gave him a kiss.

“Now, about your belief, or lack of it, in God, which you shared with the world in that press conference, which is being replayed in Rome,” Bill began.

“I know, I know. Look, I'm sorry my views aren't the same as yours.” She sounded truly contrite.

“All I'm asking is for you not to make a big deal about what you think, whether to the press or inside the Vatican. I love you as my daughter and that's that.”

Roger interrupted with an exclamation from the front seat. “Oh, wow, Dad! All of a sudden motorcycles are in front of us and police cars in back of us.”

“That's our security escort, Roger. They'll keep the cameras at a distance.”

“I'll keep my thoughts to myself,” a contrite Colleen promised. “The press has already been prying into my whole life, and Mother's death, in newspapers and on TV. Your Vatican associates must know all about me and us. I just want to visit my dad and do some research for a possible master's degree. All I ask is that they don't treat me like a child.”

The pope laughed. “Maybe you have a point, Colleen. I must introduce you to Maureen, Ambassador Kirby's daughter. She's a great young woman and you probably have a lot in common. She also knows every disco in town.”

Colleen smiled broadly and nodded as Meghan broke in, excitement in her voice. “Look how old these buildings are! They're magnificent. What's that one? I've never seen so many fruit stands and all those people shopping. I think I can see St. Peter's from here.”

“We're changing the usual ride from the airport to give you a more scenic route,” Bill proudly announced. They drove around Rome for an hour, visiting historic sites—the Colosseum, Trevi Fountain, the Spanish Steps—and stopped in for gelati at the Piazza Navona.

“Will we be restricted where we can go inside the Vatican?”

“Not really, Meghan. All those pictures you sent me of you have been copied and distributed to the Swiss guards and Italian police in the vicinity.”

“Are they going to follow us around like in school?” Meghan asked.

“How did you know about that, young lady?” Bill asked.

“We knew some of the new teacher assistants were really police,” Roger replied.

“And I spotted a new ‘student' at college,” Colleen added. “That doesn't happen in the middle of the semester. He was cute. He looked like twenty but he was really thirty. I made it easy for him. It was like I was going steady with my security guard.” She gave her father a sly wink. “Are there cute Swiss guards?”

Bill shook his head. “You all will be the death of me yet.”

“I hope our luggage was picked up,” Colleen said.

“All taken care of, including the UPS stuff you sent a few days ago.”

“My skateboard?” Roger asked anxiously, kneeling on the front seat and facing backwards. “I said two whole Rosaries for it to get through. Isn't that good?”

“Great, Roger. It's good to know that God has a concern even for skateboards. I'll ask Monsignor Cippolini if there is a patron saint for skateboarders. I should think they need one as much as any soldier going into battle.”

Tony pulled the limousine to a stop inside the Vatican, and a youthful Swiss guardsman in his red-, yellow-, and blue-striped uniform stepped forward and opened the car doors. “Welcome to Rome, Colleen, Meghan, and Roger. We're sorry to hear Ryan is not here.”

Colleen took the proffered gloved hand that helped her out. Once outside they followed their escort to the residence entranceway. Colleen stayed close to the young guardsman bringing up the rear. With a coquettish smile she asked him, “Can you tell me how old I am? I forgot.”

The guard smiled back. “You're recently twenty-one. I'm twenty-three.” He winked.

“Wow, Dad,” she called to her father. “I'm going to like this place.”

By five-thirty they had met Cardinal Robitelli, who greeted them officially on behalf of all the Vatican personnel. After a short investigation of their bedrooms they gathered in the refurbished family dining room for supper.

Monsignor Tim Shanahan stopped by, bringing with him Italian pastry.

“And I took the liberty of ordering sloppy joes and french fries for you kids,” Bill announced, “so the change in venue would seem less traumatic.” They eagerly began to devour the contents of both large platters.

“Your first ‘infallible' judgment, Your Holiness,” Colleen quipped.

“Not so perfect, Colleen. What kind of pope would forget to say grace?”

When they finished eating, Meghan tipped her chair back and patted her belly. “That was great, Dad. Like a real restaurant. Will we always have meals served like that?”

“Only until you kids do your own shopping and learn where everything is.” Bill pushed back his own chair. “Well, gang, what say we go rest our stomachs in the papal study, now to be called the family room. There are only three English-speaking TV channels here in Rome at the moment, so you guys will have to be selective. If we have major disagreements, I may be able to put a small TV in each of your bedrooms to keep the peace.”

Within an hour of sitting down, jet lag set in; heads began to nod. “Kids, you must be tired from such a long trip. By now your bags are in your rooms. Roger, your skateboard is stored in your closet. Leave it there until I find a place for you to use it.”

The children confirmed their father's diagnosis, saying they were going to take a nap for a few hours. “We didn't get any sleep coming over because we were excited and watched a movie.” Words tumbled from Roger.

Colleen had already explored the papal quarters and picked out the room she liked best. Roger and Meghan found the rooms in which their luggage had been placed. Colleen helped her brother and sister get settled and met Maria, the housekeeper assigned to their quarters.

“I thought we were on our own, without help,” Colleen said when, to her delight, she found their rooms ready and their beds turned down.

“Well, you'll find Maria very helpful. She doesn't speak any English so you'll have to learn Italian.”

“I have already started,” Colleen answered. “I think I'm going to like it here.”

27

AT HOME IN THE VATICAN

The world within the Vatican was an entirely new experience not only for the Kelly family, but also for the official papal household. One morning after the pope's early Mass, Meghan Kelly swept into what had become the family room, formerly the study of the expanding apostolic apartment. She sat on a sofa next to her father, who had slipped into black slacks and a white open-neck shirt.

“You know, Dad, I was afraid we would be making the clergy a bit uncomfortable here.” Bill gave her a questioning look. “With the exception of Monsignor Cippolini and Monsignor Tim Shanahan, I was afraid they would resent us for moving in here and forcing them to deal with things that haven't been seen here since those early Renaissance popes who had wives and children, the ones mostly ignored in modern Vatican history books.”

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